


Of Bunnies and Kings

by Frodo_sHeart



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo is a Took, First Kiss, Jealous Thorin, M/M, Romance, Tentative Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frodo_sHeart/pseuds/Frodo_sHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beorn is cuddling Bilbo and Thorin is mightily displeased. Meet a jealous king, a bold bunny-hobbit and their developing love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Bunnies and Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago I came across a few romantic ‘thilbo’ pictures on Pinterest and I couldn’t help being enamoured by the pairing of the movie-verse Thorin and Bilbo. After discovering fanfics about this pair, I totally fell in love with it. I was not at all planning to write a fanfic myself, seeing as there are so many great ones out there, but the other day I suddenly dreamed up a small story and I began writing it down. I still wasn’t really planning on sharing it, but I am pleased with how it turned out, so I decided to post my story after all. I hope you like it. English is not my first language, but I hope there aren’t any big mistakes. Please be gentle, this is my first fanfic ever.
> 
> The story is set, as many others are, at Beorn’s house. The characters are those of the Jackson movies, but the story fragment is mostly based on the book (from memory, and not striving to be 100% accurate)). I realise it has been done before, but I hope you still like it.

**Of Bunnies and Kings**

 ‘He is a shapeshifter,’ the wizard explained. ‘By night he is a bear, and the bear is highly unpredictible. But by day he is a man, and the man may be friendly.’

‘ _May_ be?’ exclaimed Ori. The other dwarves joined him with various cries of protest. Gandalf lifted his hands and they became quiet again.

‘You need the rest and the food,’ he said. ‘You are all weary and hungry. Look how loose your burglar’s clothes have become.’ Some of the dwarves looked at the hobbit, who blushed under their glances. Bilbo tugged his buttonless waistcoat around him and tried to look as if his stomach wasn’t aching from hunger. He particularly didn’t want to look pathetic under the scrutinous look the leader of the Company gave him.

‘He dislikes dwarves,’ Gandalf went on, but he was interrupted again with angry shouts. ‘Silence!’ Gandalf thundered. When all was quiet, he continued: ‘He dislikes dwarves, but he likes a good story, so I will trick him in accepting you. We will go in in pairs, several minutes apart. I will go first with mr Baggins.’

‘No!’ Everyone turned around to look at Thorin, whose deep voice had rung out. The Dwarven King had a determined look on his face. ‘You will not take the hobbit to this... this bear-man alone,’ he said, straightening his back. ‘I will go first.’ His piercing blue eyes glared at the wizard, daring him to oppose him.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow, then his face softened.

‘You will not go first, Thorin Oakenshield, you will go last.’ The dwarf’s eyes flared, but before he could speak again, the wizard said: ‘You will go last, because we do not want our host to know immediately who we are. And your name will most certainly be recognized by him.’ Gandalf laid his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. ‘Beorn will not have met a hobbit before, and I am counting on this to awaken his curiosity.’

Thorin opened his mouth, but then the hobbit’s clear, if slightly unsteady voice spoke out.

‘I will go with you, Gandalf,’ he said, looking up at the wizard, then casting a glance at Thorin. The dwarf met his eye and for a moment their gazes locked. Then Thorin lowered his head ever so slightly. Bilbo smiled at him with more courage than he really felt.

 

By the time Thorin walked towards Beorn’s huge veranda, the shapeshifter was laughing, surrounded by twelve dwarves and a wizard. Bilbo was sat on the giant man’s knee, a bit uneasy. He looked up when the king entered his view. Thorin looked at the merry group and his eyes turned to steel when he saw the hobbit there.

Beorn frowned at the sight of  the last dwarf approaching him. Even dirty and dishevelled Thorin looked as majestic as ever, Bilbo thought, and he couldn’t help staring.

‘Ho ho, and who is this then?’ the shapeshifter asked with a frown. He looked the dwarf up and down. Then he turned to Gandalf. His eyes had narrowed. ‘This is no random group of dwarves,’ he said accusingly, before his eyes darted back to Thorin.

‘I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain,’ the dwarf proclaimed loudly. Bilbo wasn’t entirely sure if Gandalf had meant him to blurt this out quite like so, and the irritated expression that flashed over the wizards face told him he had guessed correctly. But Thorin stood as tall as he could and looked the shapeshifter right in the eye. Bilbo cringed. Had the dwarf gone mad, trying to dare this enormous man who was over twice his height? Did he not realize how easily Beorn could kill him? All of them actually? Then he felt Beorn’s huge hand on his shoulder and the man laughed heartily. He extended his other hand to Thorin.

‘Be welcome, brave King,’ he boomed, his voice even deeper than Thorin’s. The dwarf was still glaring at the shapeshifter, but when Gandalf raised a hand and cast him a warning look, he kept quiet. With a quick glance at Bilbo and the hand still resting on the hobbit’s shoulder, Thorin bowed his head and said: ‘At your service,’ though he didn’t look like he meant it at all.

 

They had a magnificent meal that evening, and mead to go with it. Bilbo didn’t drink much of the mead. He watched the company become merrier and merrier. Their host wasn’t with them. He had left the house when darkness fell and they hadn’t seen him after that. Bilbo felt his head beginning to nod. A gentle hand touched his shoulder. Looking up he saw Fili’s kind eyes upon his face. The fair-haired dwarf smiled.

‘I think you had better turn in, master Baggins,’ he said. ‘They will go on for quite a while yet and you look like you could use some sleep.’

Bilbo nodded and stood up. He glanced over the table, trying to not look at anyone in particular, but felt his face blush as he met Thorin’s steely blue gaze. He looked away immediately and made for the back of the main room where soft hay had been spread for them to sleep on. He wrapped his blanket around him and with a deep sigh setttled to go to sleep.

 

Sleep didn’t find him so easily however. Images kept coming before his eyes. The goblin lair, the fire, his mad dash at the orc about to behead Thorin, the flight with the Eagles, the short horrifying moment when he thought the dwarven king would not wake up, and then being hugged atop the Carrock. Everything else had seemed to fade into the background then. When Thorin Oakenshield, heir to the throne of Erebor, had hugged Bilbo Baggins of the Shire and told him he had been wrong for doubting him. A warm glow spread throughout the hobbit’s body. A happy smile formed around his lips, even though his ears burned while he tried not to think about when and why their leader’s good opinion had begun to matter to him so very much. Finally he began to drift off, only to be slowly wakened not long after, by something brushing his hair. He struggled to become fully awake when he heard a faint whisper.

‘Sleep, my burglar, eat and sleep.’ Then he thought he felt a light kiss upon his brow and with a faint squeek he tried to sit up. Thorin was hunched over him. The king’s eyes grew huge with mortification. He stood up and backed away, almost stumbling over a dwarf who was sleeping there. ‘Hey!’ the dwarf protested sleepily. But Thorin had gone.

With a heart pounding so loudly he imagined that the dwarves nearest to him would be able to hear it, Bilbo lay down again, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

 

The next morning he woke late, finding that the dwarves had all left their beds already. Bilbo got up and went to find them. They were seated at a large table on the veranda, where the remnants of a rich breakfast were littered.

‘Hey, sleepy hobbit!’ cried Kili. ‘I don’t think there’s anything left for you!’ His twinkling brown eyes looked at Bilbo while gesturing him to sit down beside him. Bilbo glanced over the table. Most of the dwarves seemed to be there, but he saw no Gandalf, no Balin and no Thorin. Not sure how to feel about the fact that the king wasn’t here, he sat down next to Kili, who put an arm around his shoulders.

‘You slept well, mr Baggins?’ he asked, giving Bilbo bread and cheese. Bilbo grabbed the food and bit into it greedily. Fili, on Bilbo’s other side, laughed.

‘Didn’t you have enough last night?’ he asked cheekily. Bilbo stopped eating to look at him.

‘You should talk,’ he said brightly. ‘You dwarves ate just as much and you have eaten all but everything of this breakfast!’ The brothers laughed at this and squeezed the hobbit’s arms with delight.

The rest of the day passed in happy laziness. Beorn didn’t show himself, and Bilbo saw nothing of Thorin, Balin and Gandalf either. He assumed they were discussing their journey. He didn’t go looking for them.

 

By the end of the afternoon Bilbo was sitting in the grass in a quiet corner of the garden, drinking in the sights and sounds of the lovely flowers and the buzzing bees in the light of the setting sun. Suddenly he heard the faint thud of dwarven boots approaching. Before he could look up, someone sat down next to him. He turned and saw the long dark and silver mane of Thorin Oakenshield. His heart missed a beat. He planted his hands firmly on the ground beside him, as if to find support.

Thorin cleared his throat.

‘I startled you last night’ he said hoarsely. ‘I apologize.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Do you find it in your heart to forgive me?’

‘Always,’ Bilbo blurted out before he could stop and think. Then he felt his face redden and he kept looking determinedly at the distant mountains. Thorin said nothing, but Bilbo thought he heard a faint sigh beside him.

They sat silently for a while and Bilbo began to relax. What was it about this dwarf that made him so jumpy?

Suddenly something brushed against his hand ever so slightly. Before he could move his hand, it had gone again. Bilbo wasn’t sure why he found it hard to breathe. He looked at the flowers in front of him. Then he felt it again. Thorin’s little finger touched Bilbo’s lightly, as if by accident, but this time he left it there. Bilbo’s hart was racing. He took a deep breath. And then a sudden and unexpected Tookish determination came over him and he slid his small hand over the dwarf’s broad, rough one. He heard Thorin inhale. The king turned his hand over and curled his fingers around Bilbo’s. For a moment they sat like that, then they heard a voice call out over the garden.

‘Dinner! Everyone, dinner is ready! Uncle Thorin! Mr Dwalin! Mr Boggins!’ At the sound of footsteps approaching, Thorin quickly withdrew his hand from Bilbo’s and had got up before Bilbo could react. The dwarf walked away to the house without looking back.

 

Arriving at the house, Bilbo found that Beorn had returned. He was beaming, his deep loud voice boomed with laughter and merriment. The table was set again with a rich dinner. When Beorn spotted Bilbo he swooped him up in his arms and cuddled him.

‘Little bunny is all rested and fed!’ he proclaimed. He patted Bilbo on the stomach. ‘Nice round belly again!’ he laughed. Bilbo blushed violently and tried to push the big hand away. Around him several dwarves laughed. The shapeshifter ignored Bilbo’s wriggling. He took him to the table, where he sat in his big chair and set Bilbo upon his lap. Bilbo was terribly flushed. Then he looked up and caught Thorin’s eyes and they were flaring like an icey blue fire. A sudden happiness engulfed Bilbo and he couldn’t help smiling at the dwarf. He saw the eyes widen, the brow furrowing, and then, to his mild surprise, Thorin looked down at his plate.

The dinner was merry enough, with everyone laughing and eating. Beorn kept petting Bilbo, calling him ‘my little bunny’. It began to annoy Bilbo after a while, but the shapeshifter didn’t seem willing to let him go. He piled food on Bilbo’s plate encouraging him to eat. The hobbit didn’t feel nearly as hungry as he had thought he would be. There was a strange feeling in his stomach, strange but not unpleasant. He avoided looking at the company much, but on the few occasions he did, he saw that Thorin must be seething. His face was darker than Bilbo had ever seen it, his jaw set like iron and had his eyes been able to shoot arrows, Beorn would have been killed at least twice over. Then when Beorn again grabbed a firm hold of Bilbo and planted a kiss on his golden-brown curls, Thorin stood up brusquely, his stool clattering to the ground, and stomped away. Bilbo saw Balin and Gandalf exchange a quick glance. Fili and Kili giggled, looking at Bilbo, who felt even more uneasy all of a sudden. Once again he tried to wriggle free of their host, who then suddenly loosened his grip from laughing when Bombur fell off his stool.

Bilbo saw his chance and slid off Beorn’s lap. Quietly he slipped out of the house onto the veranda. Relieved, he breathed in the cool evening air, before looking around him. He saw a broad dark shape at the far end, leaning against one of the wooden poles supporting the roof.

Slowly he walked toward Thorin, making sure he made some noise so as not to startle him. Thorin didn’t turn around when Bilbo stood next to him. His long hair obscured his face from the flickering torchlight.

‘I would we left this instant,’ Thorin grumbled. ‘ Not to suffer through another meal like that.' Now he turned around to face Bilbo, his eyes glaring. ‘You are not a bunny and you are most certainly not _his_ bunny,’ he growled. Bilbo returned his glare unwaveringly. Never in his life had he felt so utterly Tookish.

‘Then I will tell him to refrain from carrying and cuddling me,’ he said.

Thorin scoffed, eyes wide. ‘You will tell him?’ he exclaimed. ‘And do you think he will listen to you? He could crush you with one hand.’ He winced at the thought, his hand going to his sword involuntarily. ‘Damn Gandalf for bringing us here.’

‘I will tell him my King disapproves,’ said Bilbo. ‘ And that I fear he might hurt him.’

The dwarf stared at him.

‘What did you just call me?’ he asked slowly.

‘My King,’ replied Bilbo.

Thorin swallowed visibly.

‘You don’t have a king,’ he said. ‘You are a hobbit, and hobbits don’t have a king.’

‘Oh, but _I_ have,’ Bilbo said, not taking his eyes off Thorin’s pained face. ‘I have my very own special dwarven king.’

He moved closer to the dwarf, until he was standing almost against him. He looked up, his heart beating so fast it was almost unbearable, and said softly: ‘Unless you tell me I don’t.’

Thorin gaped at him, no sound came over his lips, but in his eyes a sparkle started to glow.

Bilbo reached out and grabbed one of the braids that swung next to Thorins face. Slowly he pulled his head down. With the thumb of his other hand, the little hobbit softly rubbed the dwarf’s lips. A deep hum began to vibrate in Thorin’s broad chest. The sound set off a wave of emotion in Bilbo’s groin. He stood on his toes, grabbed Thorin’s braid even tighter and covered his mouth with his lips. Now Thorin reacted. His arms closed around Bilbo with breathtaking force and he kissed him back passionately, almost violenly. He felt one of Thorin’s hands slide down his back, over his buttocks, lifting him up. Out of breath their lips parted for a minute.

‘ _My_ hobbit,’ Thorin whispered huskily. ‘My Bilbo.’

‘At your service,’ Bilbo managed to murmur before hungry lips were thrust upon his mouth again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Partly inspired by this lovely artwork. 
> 
> http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ac/03/be/ac03beebf8d0683f942383f5e42a7329.jpg  
> Original link: http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/41173226159


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